


Selling Sin to Saints

by JCRGirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, POV Outsider, Threesome - F/M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 09:59:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JCRGirl/pseuds/JCRGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brenda is a good girl with strong moral values. When she finds the Winchester brothers in a compromising position, she makes it her mission to minister, save them. Questions remain...do the Winchesters want to be saved and can they convince Brenda of the greatness of some sins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Selling Sin to Saints

**Author's Note:**

> This is an exercise to see if I could write a believable threesome. Imogen_lily and I were kicking around the idea of a threesome in an upcoming fic and I wanted to see if I could even do it. Plus I wanted to write a fic where Sam was cocky and confident. Well, mainly because I think it's hot. Also, I personally don't have anything against True Love Waits, it just wasn't for me. Tagged for mild dub-con. I don't see it that way, but some might.
> 
> Beta'd by the beautiful Deansdirtybb and Sammichgirl who convinced me it wasn't garbage and should be posted.

For all intents and purposes, Brenda was a good girl. She was a straight A student, junior class Treasurer, member of the debate team and president of the local abstinence club, Lasting Love Forever. She had a group of close friends, loving parents, a church home and, best of all, a boyfriend with similar morals. Jonah never pressured her for more, seemingly happy with chaste kisses and entwined fingers. Brenda’s life was perfect. Unfortunately, at seventeen she didn’t realize that perfection was fleeting.

October had turned unseasonably cool and she breathed a heavy sigh of relief when she pushed her way into Angelina Bradford’s house, the warmth inside enveloping her. She’d never been to a Halloween party before, but her best friend, Melissa, wanted to come and felt awkward going alone so Brenda and Jonah agreed to accompany her. She was dressed as a fairytale princess, the low cut of the costume making her uncomfortable, but it fit her body well and was half of the only couple’s outfit the store had left. It was worth a little embarrassment to see Jonah as the dapper Prince Charming.  

“I’m gonna go find us some drinks,” Jonah bent close to her ear to be heard over the thumping bass rhythm pouring out of a set of large speakers set up near the fireplace.

Nodding her head, she motioned for Melissa to head for an empty stretch of wall near the dining room. It was out of the direct blast path of the speakers and gave them a prime vantage point of the people in the living room, dining room and most of the kitchen. It only took Maddy Harper walking by in a blue gingham scrap of cloth that Brenda supposed was meant to be a Dorothy costume for their conversation to turn catty, both girls taking delight in disparaging their fellow classmates’ character and questioning their purity. They’d made it through all the girls in sight when Brenda realized that Jonah hadn’t returned with the drinks.

“Where did Jonah get off to?” She craned her neck to peer through the crowd.

“No clue,” Melissa did her own scan of the party-goers. “Think we should look for him?”

“Probably,” Brenda shrugged, lips tilting up playfully, “in case some other woman has wooed him away.”

“I doubt that,” Melissa smoothed a hand over her pirate costume, “Prince Charming can’t leave his princess for another woman. They’re supposed to live happily ever after. You wanna take inside and I’ll check outside?”

“Yeah,” Brenda fluffed out her billowy skirt, making sure that it wasn’t under her feet. “Text me if you find him.”

Brenda wound her way through the masses, checking all the downstairs rooms to no avail. Coming out of the den she saw Jonah’s friend, Adam, and hurried over to him. “Have you seen Jonah?”

 “Not recently,” Adam’s gaze roved over her costume, lingering on the exposed neckline. 

 “But you’ve seen him tonight?” At Adam’s distracted nod, she asked, “When?”

Adam pursed his lips in thought, “About an hour ago, I guess. He was headed upstairs to use the head.”

Brenda flicked her eyes up the stairs. It was as good a lead as any. Thanking Adam, she gathered her skirt, lifting it up and away from her feet, and ascended the stairs.

The bathroom upstairs was empty and each door she opened revealed an occupied bedroom – the girls she’d pegged as sluts earlier proving her right. The last door led to what Brenda assumed was Mr. & Mrs. Bradford’s bedroom and she figured they’d have an en suite bathroom. She hoped not to find another cheerleader promoting a stereotype as she cracked the door and peered into the spacious room. Her hand froze on the door and her breath seized in her chest.

Sitting on the king-sized bed, leaning back against the headboard, was that oldest Winchester boy – Dean, she thought his name was – completely nude with his legs splayed wide and smoking a cigarette. Nestled in the V with his back resting against Dean’s chest was the younger boy – Sean? Sam? Something like that – also undressed with a blissed out look on his face. Between his legs was a boy, kneeling facing him, head bobbing up and down in a leisurely rhythm. Sam’s long fingers were knotted in the boy’s hair, guiding the movements and urging him faster. 

One of Dean’s hands lay wide and possessive against Sam’s lower abdomen while the other brought the cigarette to his younger brother’s lips.  Sam inhaled the acrid smoke, eyes closing in obvious relish as Dean nuzzled his neck, and leaned his head back onto Dean’s shoulders, exhaling a bluish stream toward the ceiling. Something in her body clenched at seeing them like that, naked and intimate in a way no brothers should be.

“Like a fucking pro,” Dean smirked looking down at the boy hovering over Sam’s groin. “Taking you like that.”

Sam smiled lazily, fingers of one hand loosening to pat the boy on the head. “Such a good little cocksucker.”

Dean’s hand ran up over the defined muscles of Sam’s stomach, to stroke and pinch at his nipples. Nudging the guy’s side with his foot, he flattened it to rub up and down his side. “Does your girlfriend know the reason you’re willing to wait for her prude ass is because you rather play with outies than innies?”

Brenda pulled her gaze from Dean’s stroking hands and focused on the guy between Sam’s legs. It was then that she noticed the blue trousers and white tunic the guy wore, exactly like Jonah had been wearing. She let out a squeak in surprise, Dean and Sam’s eyes flying to her.

“Guess the homos out of the bag,” Dean dropped the cigarette into a red Solo cup on the nightstand, the lit tobacco extinguishing in a hiss. 

She saw Jonah’s back tense, his head try to lift up, but Sam tightened his grip and forced his head down hard. Jonah’s body shuddered, Sam’s dick blocking his airway, and his hands pawed at Sam’s hips and thighs only to be caught in Dean’s. Jonah struggled, but neither of the Winchester brothers seemed inclined to release him. 

“You wanted to play with the big boys,” Dean mumbled, watching Jonah’s futile attempts to get free, “so just take what you’re given.”

Jonah whimpered, the sound morphing into a muffled groan as his hips twisted from side to side. His body snapped coil spring tight then convulsed and Brenda worried for a wild moment that he was having a seizure until she saw thick, white ropes splatter across Sam’s calf and the bed sheets.

Dean shot her a smug smile, singing softly. “Someday, my prince will come…”

Brenda’s brain came back online and hurriedly backed out the door, seeing Sam release Jonah’s head and roughly shove him in the direction of his lower leg. “You made the mess, you clean it up.”

She slammed the door and went down the stairs two at a time, nearly falling once when she stepped on the hem of her skirt. She snagged Melissa, who’d been looking for her in the foyer, on the way out the front door.

 

*****

 

The next day, after church, she stood in front of room 12 at the Apple Blossom Motel, steeling her resolve to knock on the door. She’d been awake most of the night, images of the depravity she’d seen in that bedroom running through her mind. Close to dawn she came to the conclusion that she needed to talk to the Winchester brothers, minister to them, _save_ them. She held the informational pamphlets Lasting Love Forever distributed in her hand and raised a trembling fist to knock on the door.

“Looking for us, princess?”

She startled at the voice next to her ear, wondering how he was able to sneak up on her so quietly. Dean leaned against the wall, facing her with an expression that made her heart race and stomach tighten.

“I – I.” she stammered, taking an involuntary step back only to come up against a hard body behind her.

“Spit it out, darlin’,” Sam whispered in her ear, the hairs that had fallen loose from her braid tickling her cheek in the wake of his warm breath. “People will think you’re slow.”

She wanted to pull away, but her body felt weak and she was afraid her knees would buckle. A shiver rippled over her frame and Sam chuckled in her ear.

Dean looked down at the pamphlets crushed in her grip and pulled one of the crinkled papers free. A smirk teased his lips as he silently mouthed the program’s logo – _Keeping the promise of love until forever._

“Sammy, I believe that Brenda has come to talk to us about the virtues of abstinence.” Dean turned the brochure around for Sam to read the front.

“Hmmm,” Sam hummed, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating her back. “Could be a _titillating_ conversation.” He cupped her hip with his large hand, the warmth seeping through the material of her skirt and causing a flush to creep up her neck. “Why don’t you come inside and we can discuss the _ins_ and _outs_ of your position?”

Dean chuckled darkly, pulling a key from his front pocket and quickly unlocking the door. Standing to the side, he held it open and waved her through with a flourish of his hand. She stood rooted to the spot, brain not communicating with her mouth to deny the offer and leave nor her legs to accept and go inside. The heat on her hip and at her back gently urged her forward, making the decision for her addled mind, and she stepped over the threshold. She jumped slightly when the door slammed; shivering at the click of the lock engaging, and a thumb snaked under the hem of her sweater to rub at her side soothingly. Heat flared along her skin and a tingle started low in her abdomen.

Dean walked past them, stripping his jacket and draping it over the back of the chair. “I’m really digging the parochial school outfit there,” he eyed her clothes from the ribbon tying back her hair to the Mary Janes on her feet.

Dumbly, she looked down at her modest length plaid skirt and blue cardigan, her starched white shirt peeking out at the cuffs and collar. She could feel the tight elastic of her knee socks biting into the tender flesh of her calves. 

“Picture of innocence and purity,” Dean purred, unbuttoning the cuffs of his flannel overshirt and shucking it, the fabric pooling on the floor.

The word purity pulled her from her dazed stupor and she cleared her throat nervously. “I –I wanted to t-talk to you about L-lasting L-love F-forever.” Darn! She’d never been prone to stuttering, but the strong presence still molded to her back was distracting and it hadn’t occurred to her to tell Sam to move away.

“No, you didn’t,” Sam countered confidently, hand gripping her hip a little tighter as his index finger joined the thumb stroking her waist. “You wanted to talk to us about what you saw last night.”

It took sheer will to force herself away from Sam and she faced off against the two brothers. “No! I mean, yes. I wanted to let you know that it isn’t too late to join LLF. You can make a commitment and become born-again virgins.” She was proud her voice didn’t waver, her head clear now that she was away from the musky smell and heat emanating from Sam.

“Don’t think so, princess,” Dean crossed the room to stand in front of her, movements sinuous and fluid. “I couldn’t get rid of my V-card fast enough the first time. Hell, fucking shredded the thing the first time Jessica O’Brien sucked me off in the back seat of the Impala. Remember that Sammy?” He tossed a lecherous grin at his brother, who groaned, then stared directly at Brenda again.  “Just flipped her on her back,” his hand lightly caressed Brenda’s spine and she firmed her knees to keep them under her, “fingered her until I was ready again,” fingers lightly traced the curve of her cheek before he leaned close, “then fucked her until she screamed.”  She stood in numb shock, wondering if this was what a deer felt like right before the squeal of tires.

“The whole three minutes it lasted,” Sam’s voice was laced in amusement.

Pulling back, Dean’s eyes darkened. “Like you lasted much longer the first time.”

Brenda brows furrowed and Dean could feel her expression change under the palm still pressed to her cheek. “We like to watch,” Dean winked, tapping her confused pout with his thumb. “Back to my point, though, the only people who like being a virgin are those who haven’t been introduced to the greatness of sex. You came here because you’re looking for an orientation.”

Sam stepped back up behind her, thumbs hooked over her hips and long fingers splayed across her pelvis in a downward angle, touching just above her pubic bone. She gasped in surprise and that warm chuckle washed over her again. “And you were wanting us to be your guides. Help you understand why you get that tingling feeling here,” he pressed his fingers down into her skin and she squeezed her legs together at the pulse of fluid she felt her body release.

“N-no,” she denied weakly, voice breathy and panting.

“Shhh,” Dean shushed her, “it’s okay. We’re gonna treat you so good, princess. Spoil you for any man that comes after.” He trailed his hands down from her face, skirting them over the swell of her breasts, down her sides and past Sam’s hands spanning her pelvis to rest just below the apex of Sam’s fingers. Her eyes widened as her body tried to grind up into the gentle pressure and Dean smirked in understanding. He leaned forward, lips only millimeters away from hers. “You ever been touched before, princess?” His breath, cigarette-tinged mint, ghosted over her parted mouth.

She shook her head slightly unable to form words, body clenching in anticipation. He swayed closer, his lips meeting hers, and her body exploded in desire. Kisses with Jonah had never been like this, shivering as her body burned for more. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest and her lips trembled against Dean’s sure ones. She felt like she was dying, body falling apart, and in that moment she couldn’t think of a better way to go. Dean’s warm tongue traced her lips and they parted in invitation. He tasted like nicotine and spearmint, like sweetened damnation, and she couldn’t get enough. She faltered when Sam started nibbling on the back of her neck, a shudder running down her body when he sucked on a patch of skin behind her ear.

She was so overwhelmed by Dean’s mouth moving against hers and Sam’s on her neck, that she didn’t realize Sam’s fingers were slowly working the buttons on her cardigan and shirt open. She groaned, breaking the kiss, and her knees did buckle when his warm hands smoothed over her stomach and cupped her breasts, those same hands the only things keeping her from hitting the ground. Eyes fluttering shut, she dropped her head back onto Sam’s chest and let the sensations flow over her as she panted out her desire.

Wet sounds filled the room and she turned her head to the side to see Dean kissing Sam, their tongues tangling around each other’s. She whimpered and they separated to look at her with matching devilish grins. 

“Don’t worry, princess,” Dean cooed, “We haven’t forgot about you. Just had to get a taste of my Sammy.” He slid to his knees before her, hands cupping her hips, as he peppered kisses to the creamy skin above her waistband.

“You liked that didn’t you?” Sam’s voice was molten sex in her ear, sultry and dark. One hand came up to stroke her neck while the other thumbed and pinched her nipple through the thin cotton of her bra. “Made you hot to see us kissing like that. Just like you got off on Jonah’s pretty mouth going down on me.” He kissed her jaw in a steady line to her mouth, taking her lips when he was near. 

She vaguely registered the sound of a zipper right before she felt her skirt slide down her legs. Her body tried to fold in on itself, hide from the appraising eyes, but Sam’s arms around her torso and Dean’s hands on her hips kept it from happening. She pulled her lips from Sam’s and looked down at Dean.

“Fucking told you, Sammy,” he grinned. “White cotton with a pink rosebud. You owe me five bucks.”

She balked at the idea of them discussing the type of underwear she wore, her face pinking in a blush. Her embarrassment was forgotten when calloused thumbs snuck under the legs of the panties in question, rubbing the tender skin of her hip. She whined, body arching into the touch.

Dean looked up and winked at her. Hooking his thumbs in the fabric he tugged them down, exposing her in a way she’d never been before. 

“Wild and untamed,” Dean remarked, fingers petting the dark curls. Her hips pulled back on instinct, pressing her back against Sam’s arousal. “Sshh, princess,” Dean soothed, “It’s alright.” He pet over her again, fingers brushing over her on the way down and parting her on the way back up.

Brenda keened, body slumping against Sam bonelessly, a marionette with its strings cut.

“She’s so wet, Sammy,” he held up a glistening finger to his younger brother. 

Brenda almost passed out when Sam dipped down, taking the digit in his mouth and sucked her juices from it.

Dean pushed at her thighs, trying to separate them. “Come on, princess. Open up. I want a taste too.” When she didn’t move, apparently unable to, he nudged Sam’s leg. “Spread her for me, Sam.”

The caresses across her chest stopped and she felt Sam’s large hands grip the backs of her thighs. He grunted and her feet left the floor, straining biceps hard against her sides. He opened her legs and Dean walked forward on his knees to slot himself between them. She cried out at the first swipe of wet heat across her clit, white starbursts exploding behind closed eyelids. Sam nuzzled her neck, nipping, biting and sucking his way from jaw to shoulder.

It was too much. Her body was on overload, sensations she’d never dreamed of before bombarding her. She writhed and twitched, body convulsing of its own accord. A finger traced her before delving in and she screamed.

“Oh, God! Please,” she begged, not even understanding what she was begging for, but knowing she needed something.

Dean kept up his ministrations and added a second finger, the stretch unfamiliar and strange. She winced and her legs jerked.

“Always a little pain getting your cherry popped,” Sam breathed in her ear. He jostled her right leg until it was draped over Dean’s shoulder then snaked his hand over her thigh, his fingers rubbing her clit and teasing Dean’s tongue. The digits wandered lower, feeling where Dean’s were disappearing into her, running around the edge before thrusting one of his own in next to the two of Dean’s. She cried out at the sudden intrusion. “God, you’re so wet and warm,” he groaned, thrusting his fingers counterpoint to his brother’s. “Can’t wait to get my dick in here. We talked about it, you know? I’ve never had a virgin so Dean’s being gracious and gonna let me fuck you first.”

Her mind was in chaos, new sensations flooding her system and clouding her thoughts. Sam’s words made it past the haze. “Fffffuck m-me first?” The vulgar word felt awkward in her mouth, having never passed her lips before. 

“Yeah, darlin’.” Sam scraped his teeth over the sensitive skin of her neck. His finger retreated, grabbing her hip again. “Dean doesn’t mind my sloppy seconds.”

She wanted to protest, sure that there was an insult in there somewhere, but Dean chose that moment to roll his tongue in an interesting move that left her squirming and keening. She felt hands brush against the bottom swell of her ass and for the first time since Dean kissed her, she was afraid. She jerked away from caress, thighs pressing down on Sam’s arm and Dean’s shoulder.

 Dean lifted his head, a knowing smirk lifting one side of his glistening mouth. “Relax, sweetheart. As much as I’d like to see you filled to bursting, I don’t think you’re up for anal just yet.” He twisted his fingers inside her, brushing something deep that stole her breath and sent electricity through her veins, and her body ground down seeking the feeling. She panted, whining in frustrations, and her hips rolled desperate to maneuver him back to that spot again. 

“She’s like a finger puppet,” Dean’s voice purred. “Let’s see if we can make her dance.” The fingers shifted again and suddenly her whole body tensed at the explosion of pleasure, muscles spasming in jerky contractions that jolted her like she’d been touched with a live wire. She threw her head back onto Sam’s shoulder and her mouth opened in a silent scream.

She rode a wave of bliss, body floating on an endorphin high, arms and legs heavy and lax. Distantly she was aware of Sam carrying her to the bed, but the sounds of a zipper lowering and fabric falling to the floor were lost in the sea of satiation. He sat on the edge and situated her in his lap, her legs draped over his thighs leaving her middle open and exposed. His hands smoothed over her thighs, soothing her through the last shudders of her orgasm. 

She smiled lazily when Dean nestled between the spread of their legs. He leaned forward to kiss her and she tasted a tanginess on his lips that hadn’t been there before. It took a moment to realize that it was the lingering traces of her wetness and a thought of _dirtybadwrong_ shot heat through her body. She licked into his mouth and over his lips, lapping at the flavor until she couldn’t taste it anymore.

“Told you good girls were kinky,” Sam chuckled over her shoulder, his fingers dancing over her nipples, hardening them into tight peaks. She groaned, back arching into the _painpleasure_. “She’s got the makings of a first rate slut.”

Dean hummed as he pulled away from the kiss and Brenda couldn’t contain the whimper at the loss, head leaning in to follow his lips. “I think you’re right, Sammy.” He slid his hand between her thighs, parting her folds and sliding his digits through the slickness coating them. “You ready to give it up, little girl? Let Sammy show you what you’ve been missing?” He slid his fingers into her, easy as sin, and rubbed them over that spot again, forcing a moan up her throat. Sam pinched her nipples, the added feeling causing her to yell out.

“Please,” she begged, her dazed mind no longer caring about lasting love or archaic notions on sex. “God, please.” Her chest was heaving, breasts bouncing slightly with each stuttered inhale.

“All right, darlin’,” Sam drawled. He nudged her forward on his legs - pushing her further down his thighsntoward his knees, spreading her legs still draped over his wider. Dean’s fingers continued to brush over her insides deliciously as she was pressed up against his body knelt between her parted thighs. “Play with Dean for a second.” She heard crinkling and an elastic sound, but lost all train of thought when Dean’s warm mouth latched onto her right nipple, tongue circling the nub as he sucked on it gently. 

“Aahh,” her hands tangled into his short hair, holding his head in place. Dean’s hands, one slimy with her own excitement, maneuvered her legs back until her shins rested on the bed next to Sam’s hips. Brenda was chaste, not naïve, and the words ‘reverse cowgirl’ popped into her head before all thought left her when Dean turned his attention to her left nipple.

Strong hands cupped her hips and urged her upwards. “Raise up a little, darlin’.” She lifted up and was guided back. Dean walked forward on his knees, following her body as she was maneuvered, his mouth never stopping the sweet torture on her nipple. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, forcing her to lean forward. He exchanged one nipple for the other and she was momentarily distracted until a bluntness pressed against her. She froze, fear making her wiggle in an attempt to get away, but their arms held her in place. 

Sam warm breath ghosted over her ear. “Gonna give you what you were begging so prettily for,” he husked then pulled back on her hips and thrust his own forward. She cried out as Sam slid home, his pleasured groan adding a bass undertone to the sound. Even with the warning that it would hurt, the ache deep inside, the discomfort of virgin territory being breached, took her by surprise. Her nails bit into Dean’s scalp and he gently pried her hands away, resting them on Sam’s knees. She panted whimpered breaths to the ceiling as both men waited patiently for her to recover.

“Sshh, princess,” Dean breathed in her ear, petting her side. “Sammy’s a big boy. Relax and let him in.”

She shifted, rolled her hips in lazy figure eights, trying to adjust to being so full. She ached, but she couldn’t decide whether it was pleasure tinged pain or pain tinged pleasure. Guiding hands on her hips lifted her up and slowly lowered her down and she gasped at the sinfully sweet slide of Sam’s hardened member against her sensitive inner walls. She started a slow rise and fall, getting used to the motion and sensations that became quicker and harder as awkward morphed into awesome. Sam was like an earthquake, shaking her body and taking her down to her foundations.

“Oh, fuck. So tight,” Sam moaned. His upper body fell back on the bed, changing the angle of penetration, and her body clenched around him involuntarily, a cry ripping up her throat. “Shit,” he cursed, low and feral, fingers tightening on her hips and toes curling in the carpet. She tensed her muscles, wondering at his reaction and was rewarded with a pornographic groan and a particularly hard thrust up. “Goddamn!” 

She forced her eyes open and looked down, only now realizing that Dean had stopped stroking her side. The older boy sat back on his haunches, hands idly stroking down Sam’s calves and eyes focused where Sam was disappearing into her body. Embarrassment washed over her and she tried to close her legs, hide from his intimate gaze, but Dean’s hands held her thighs back with gentle pressure. His gaze flicked up and locked on hers, hand sliding up her inner thigh to touch where they were joined. His fingers traced the edge where she was wrapped around Sam’s member, eyes tracking the movement with rapt attention, body moving forward again to nestle between their opened legs. 

“Taking my baby boy so good, princess. Stretching around him like a velvet glove,” he whispered before slipping his finger in beside his brother’s thrusting cock. Her back arched and she squealed, the ache that had begun to recede intensifying again. She screamed and her body jerked to the left only to be held still by Sam’s hands on her hips when something warm and wet licked across her clit. Her eyes flew open in shock and she saw Dean hunched low, his tongue caressing her and laving over Sam’s cock each time it emerged. Sam’s torso surged upward, feet momentarily leaving the floor, before falling back. He rocked into her erratically, restrained thrusting abandoned as his need grew. The magnitude of the earthquake intensified, her fingers tightening into Sam’s knees to keep from being unseated, and she knew utter devastation would be all that was left in its wake.

“Shit, Dean,” Sam groaned, “I’m gonna…I gotta…”  

Dean pulled his head back, his fingers replacing his tongue massaging her. “Do it, Sammy. Princess can take it.”

Sam’s hands gripped her hips iron tight and he used his feet on the floor for leverage, thrusting up into her in long, strong strokes. She cried out and wriggled with each forceful penetration, her body no longer under her control as his hardened member rubbed across that place inside that made her vision white out. She heard grunts, some her own, but most not, and felt Sam sit up behind her and go stock still beneath her. He gave one last thrust and she slumped back against his strong chest and let the earthquake shake her apart.

 

*****

 

She woke and blinked her eyes to see Dean kissing Sam over her left shoulder, the two of them sandwiching her body between them. Dean’s fingers were tangled in Sam’s hair and unlike the kisses he’d given her these were tender, possessive, claiming. Dean pulled back, a thin trail of spittle connecting their lips, and stared at Sam with hungry eyes. “Fuck, Sammy. That was hot.”

“Mmmm, yeah,” Sam hummed, leaning in for another kiss. His voice was deep and throaty and it sent a shiver up her spine.

Dean felt the tremor and leaned back, smiling at her. “Looks like Sleeping Beauty is awake.” He leaned over and kissed her, Sam’s hands rubbing soothingly over her stomach. “Did you like your introduction into the sins of the flesh?” He thumbed her nipple, the backs of his fingers dragging teasingly light down her abdomen to rub over her clit.

She whimpered, her over-sensitive body trying to pull away from the too much feeling while grinding down in search of more. Dean smirked, fingers delving lower to comb through the thick snatch of curls and gliding easily over the swollen lips.

“I think she did, Sammy.” Dean whispered against the skin of her neck, goosebumps rising in the wake of his warm breath. “I’m glad, princess, but it’s not over yet. I haven’t gotten my turn.”

His strong hands cupped under her buttocks and scooped her up from Sam’s lap. She grimaced at the squelchy sound of Sam leaving her body and the emptiness she felt deep inside. Dean laid her on the bed next to Sam, following her down with sucking kisses to her neck, blanketing her body with his. He trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses along her jaw to her lips, claiming them in a kiss. She tried to soften the exchange, pull back, seeking desperately the gentle passion she’d seen between the brothers. Dean drew back, chuckling. “Don’t be greedy,” he admonished, tapping her lightly on the end of the nose. “You can’t have it all. Some things are just for me and my Sammy.” He kissed her lips chaste, but hard, “Lay there and relax for a minute.” 

He slid off the end of the bed, fingers lightly roving over her naked skin as he went. She did as she was told and melted back into the mattress, her time with Sam still leaving her limbs and mind heavy with satisfaction. Dean stood and slowly stripped his Henley off, revealing his tanned, muscled chest to her for the first time. She frowned looking over to Sam, still perched at his place on the end of the bed, to see his long-sleeved t-shirt was still on and felt cheated that she hadn’t experienced the heat of his skin without the barrier. Dean unbuttoned his jeans, his unclothed erection forcing the zipper down with its insistent press, and he let the denim fall to the ground. Standing in all his naked, Adonis-like glory, he turned toward Sam. “Little help, Sammy.”

Without hesitation, Sam leaned forward and licked off the pearlescent drop of fluid glistening at the end of Dean’s member with obvious relish before engulfing the entire thing in his mouth. Brenda’s mouth fell open as Sam’s eyes rolled back in his head and his eyelids fluttered shut. Dean moaned low and dirty, Sam hollowing his cheeks and pulling back only to go back down again. 

“Shit, Sammy,” Dean panted, head tilting back and fingers threading in Sam’s long hair. “I was talking about the condom. You gotta stop or princess won’t get her happy ending.”

Sam’s lips left Dean with an obscene pop and the younger Winchester looked at his brother with an evil grin. “I know what you were talking about,” he grabbed a foil wrapped package from the bed and ripped it open with practiced ease, “but I couldn’t help myself.” He smoothed a hand over Dean’s turgid cock, pressing a kiss to the tip, then unrolled the condom down the length. Once done, he laid back on the bed beside a bewildered Brenda, finger drawing an idle pattern over her stomach. She blinked up at him owlishly and he smiled, leaning down to kiss her as his fingers ghosted lower to tease the skin of her inner thigh. “You know how this goes, darlin’. Gotta spread those delicious legs so Dean can get to your sweetness inside,” he whispered against her mouth, the saliva slick catch-and-slide of his lips on hers taunting her with the promise of more.

Body controlled by her baser instincts, the reptilian feed-or-breed part of her brain, she parted her thighs, heart racing in anticipation of what was to come. 

“Good girl,” Sam kissed her again, her body thrilling at the resumed contact and her hands moving up to fist into his silky hair. She felt an odd flush of pride over the praise, her blush deepening when Dean snickered, “First rate slut.”

The mattress dipped as Dean climbed between her spread legs, coaxing hands maneuvering her. The press of Sam’s lips became harder and she returned it just as hungrily, until her mouth broke free on a gasp when Dean’s length filled her in one fluid thrust. 

“Jesus Christ!” She screamed, back arching and the fingers entangled in Sam’s hair tightening painfully. Sam left them there, allowing the hold to ground her, and ran his nose over her cheek to her ear. “Pre-marital sex and blasphemy all in one day,” he chuckled, lowly, mouth whispering over the skin of her neck. “I think we’re a bad influence on you.” He sucked at the juncture of neck and shoulder and she shivered at the feel. 

Sam kissed her, nips and bites to her throat and jaw interspersed with deep, hard clashes of lips and tongues, as Dean set up a steady rhythm, precision aimed thrusts making her toes curl and hands move from Sam’s hair to the sheets. The sounds of lips on skin mixed with the slap of flesh on flesh, a syncopated bass line to the harmony of Dean’s grunts and her breathy gasps. If Sam was like an earthquake, Dean was a tsunami and she felt helpless in the shadow of its impending doom.

“Just look at him.” Sam’s voice, lust rough and awe soft, raised the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck as he whispered the words directly into her skin and she blinked up at the other man obediently. “So goddamn perfect, isn’t he? Feels so fucking good filling you, right? I know it does.” Sam pet her from neck to navel, fingers skimming over the back of Dean’s hand to ghost up the underside of his forearm. Dean’s hips jerked forward, her gasp echoing his. “So big and thick.” His fingers danced down Dean’s torso, forcing the already rippling muscles to spasm and dance, moving downward to where they were joined. Sam’s index and middle finger straddled Dean’s member, loose enough to not impede the easy back and forth but tight enough that Dean’s eyes rolled back in his head at added stimulation, his palm a heavy pressure against her clit, making her muscles clench around Dean’s hardness. “Slides in and out, fitting so damn perfect, chasing away all the emptiness you never knew you had.”

Her mind whited out, buzzing like a test pattern, bombarded with information overload – Sam’s husky voice in her ear, Dean’s hands on her hips, the delicious, frictionless pump of Dean’s cock into her, the musky, sweaty smell of them in her nose. The tsunami loomed closer, threateningly, the promise of drowning an acceptable consequence of letting it crash over her.

Sam’s hand covered hers still clamped in his hair, fingers clammy and damp from her wetness, and guided her hand up toward Dean. “You can touch him if you want.” Sam put her hand on Dean’s bicep and she tentatively smoothed over the muscle.

“It’s okay, princess,” Dean cooed, his soft, soothing voice a contrast to the low, gravelly rasp of Sam’s. He snapped his hips forward in a hard thrust and swiveled his hips lazily. Brenda arched her back at the electric jolt zinging through her body, fingers digging deep into Dean’s skin, mouth open in a silent scream, head tossing on the pillow. 

“Eureka,” Dean crowed and thrust in again, hitting the same spot as before. She cried out and writhed, losing herself to the onslaught of sensation.

“Oh, fuck,” Dean’s voice was breathier, reverent, and she opened the eyes she’d unknowingly closed to see what had caused the change.

Sometime, she wasn’t exactly sure when, Sam had stopped kissing her body and started kissing Dean’s. He littered wet, lingering kisses up Dean’s abdomen, pausing to suck on a nipple. Dean’s rhythm stuttered, a groan tearing up his throat that sent a flush across her skin, and the hands on her hips tightened to the point she knew there’d be bruises. Sam licked the hardened nub, blowing gently over it, then dipped his head beneath Dean’s arm to ghost his lips over Dean’s side and up his back. 

“Sammy,” Dean sighed, finding his tempo again. Sam appeared over Dean’s shoulder, body molded to Dean’s back, arms around his waist and hands smoothing over the plains of his chest and stomach. 

“Come on, Dean,” Sam growled, hands constantly moving. “Bring you both home.” He ducked his head and bit the round of Dean’s shoulder.

Dean’s breath rushed out in a gush, his hips shooting forward deep and hard. Brenda keened, shrill and loud, her entire body seizing up. Dean pulled back and slammed in again, body stilling. And through it all Sam kissed Dean’s back and stroked his chest. The last thing Brenda saw before the tsunami pulled her under was Sam pressing a loving kiss to Dean’s neck.

 

*****

 

She roused, but kept her eyes closed enjoying the warmth of the two long lines of muscle bracketing her body. Gentle fingers smoothed down her sides while another set carded through her hair. The heater under the window clicked on and the first blast of air it belched out was cold, chilling her damp skin. She frowned, squirming in embarrassment however misplaced, at the realization that the brothers had cleaned her up. 

“Sshhh,” Dean soothed and the hand in her hair scratched her scalp lightly as the sheet was pulled over her body. Brenda settled and let the motion lull her back to sleep. 

“Dude, you owe me another five bucks. She was out like five minutes.”

 

*****

Brenda squinted her eyes and parted her eyelids a fraction of an inch, disappointed to be alone in the bed. It was dark, the full moon light filtering through the tacky sienna curtains cast the room in a pale sepia tone. There was a creak and a muted sigh and she looked over at the other bed. 

Sam lay on his back, Dean between his parted thighs, his long legs circling Dean’s hips. His hands roved endlessly over Dean’s back, up and down the strong muscled expanse and over his shoulders, reverential touches by worshipping fingers. His face was soft, tender – chameleon eyes shining bright with affection and adoration as they stared up at the man hovering over him.

Dean blanketed him, weight supported on the forearms bracketing Sam’s shoulders. His body moved in a fluid line, back, hips and legs rolling in slow waves of flesh, an unhurried ebb and flow. He shifted, balance resting solely on his right arm, leaving his left hand free to caress down Sam’s face, so gentle and intimate that Brenda’s pulse quickened. 

The hand ghosted lower, cupping beneath Sam’s thigh and hitching it higher on Dean’s waist. It remained there and Brenda found herself transfixed by Dean’s thumb lovingly sweeping over the skin and fine hairs in slow arcs. Sam gasped on the next swell and she pulled her eyes from that hypnotizing thumb to see Sam tilt his head back on the pillow, face transformed in sheer joy, as his fingers dug deep into the meat of Dean’s shoulders. 

 Dean didn’t cry out in victory like he had with her, didn’t curl his lips up at the edges into a smug smirk, just watched in awe before ducking his head to the exposed skin of Sam’s neck to press achingly sweet kisses to the Adam’s apple bobbing there, hips never faltering from the measured rocking. Dean traced his nose along the underside of Sam’s jaw, nudging the sharp bone until Sam heeded his urgings and dropped his mouth to his brother’s. The kiss was paced and sensuous – a long make out session on a lazy Sunday – the only betrayer of the primal feelings created by the rush and recede of their bodies was the whitened tips of their fingers in the bruising grips on back and thigh. The kiss broke and the boys rested their foreheads tighter, gazes locked and panted breaths mingling. 

Clarity hit as she watched them stare into each other’s souls – what she was witnessing wasn’t two bodies meeting for mutual pleasure, but the reconnecting of two halves of the same soul. It transcended the physical act into an emotional communion. She’d experienced the power of these two elemental titans, the destructive shake of Sam’s earthquake and the drowning flood of Dean’s tsunami, but this was where land and sea met, waves rushing onto the shore, wetting the sand to mud, combining the two into one. She felt her body ache, the feeling not originating from between her legs like before but from her heart. She now understood what Dean meant about some things being just for Sam. Sure they’d had sex with her, but this, this _whatever_ , they reserved only for each other.

The intimacy fueled their passion, a hurricane wind transferring its energy to the waves, and Dean’s body moved with the urgency it inspired crashing into Sam with quick, sharp thrusts that punched gusted grunts from their lungs. The wave broke on the beach, both forms locking up tight, muscles frozen in ecstasy, and through it all they watched the other. Brenda felt saltwater slide down her cheek at the expression on their faces – equal parts vulnerability and security; hearts, minds and souls flayed open for the other to see but safe in the knowledge that it didn’t make them less in the other’s eyes.

Dean collapsed forward onto Sam, head nestled into the crook of his brother’s shoulder. Sam legs fell bonelessly to the bed and one hand came up to cradle the back of Dean’s head while the other soothed the jittery muscles in Dean’s back. Sam tilted his head down and dropped a chaste kiss to Dean’s sweaty shoulder, the ‘love you’ whispered against the briny flesh floating to Brenda like seafoam on an ocean breeze.

Dean leaned back and stared at Sam not like he hung the moon, but _was_ the moon. “Love you, too.” He brought his lips down to Sam’s.

Brenda closed her eyes unable to watch them so tender. She lay quietly, pretended to sleep, and listened as they moved around the room. Her thoughts were chaotic, a whirlwind of new concepts and changing beliefs. She’d learned a lot in her time with the Winchesters. They’d delivered on her promise to help her see the greatness – fucking awesomeness, she corrected – of sex, but they’d taught her so much more. 

By the time the door snicked closed and the rumble of Dean’s classic car rattled the cheap picture frames on the walls, Brenda had come to a few conclusions. First, she was quitting Lasting Love Forever. Her decision had little to do with how wonderful Dean and Sam had felt on and in her, though she could concede that it was probably a valid reason. No, it had more to do with the new perspective she had on their mission statement. She still believed that love should be forever, more so now that she’d seen what true love looked like, she just knew that love and sex weren’t the same thing. Her body could still have fun while her heart searched for its match.

Second, she was going to see where exactly on the Kinsey scale her sweet, little Jonah fell. If he was too far, there was always his friend, Adam.


End file.
